


pour some sugar on me (in the name of love)

by televangelists



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/F, Idiots in Love, coffee shop AU, enemies to lovers but like in the softest way possible, faith is the lesbian to angel's emotional support himbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:08:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24360355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/televangelists/pseuds/televangelists
Summary: "Well, I’ve gotta go,” Faith says. “Tomorrow and tomorrow, or whatever the saying is.”“I think the saying is 'find a new coffee place,'” Buffy says impatiently. “Now get lost.”[Faith Lehane loves black coffee, but she loves annoying Buffy Summers more.]
Relationships: Angel & Faith Lehane, Faith Lehane/Buffy Summers
Comments: 9
Kudos: 151





	pour some sugar on me (in the name of love)

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a quick lighthearted one shot that i wrote based on a prompt by twitter user thoughtsintoink: "fuffy dumbass coffee shop au where buffy is a highly aggravated barista and faith is the customer who orders a different drink every day and every time it gets more complicated and irritating to make bc she likes annoying buffy"

Faith Lehane isn’t really one for fancy coffee shops. 

She’s more of a convenience store coffee kind of gal. Her preferred morning brew is a jumbo styrofoam hot cup of whatever dirt-cheap coffee is on brew at the gas station - usually a bitter slightly watery mix of coffee grounds and probably gasoline, but whatever. Caffeine works all the same.

The problem is, she can’t find any gas stations with good coffee in this god-forsaken city.

She’s been in LA for almost a month now and she hasn’t found a single place with suitably bitter, bottom-tier coffee. It’s starting to get on her nerves a little bit, because it shouldn’t be this hard to find shitty coffee. 

But caffeine withdrawal doesn’t care about the lack of properly equipped gas stations in LA, so eventually Faith has to give in and find some coffee, no matter how overly sweetened and complicated and California-ized it is. 

That’s how she finds herself standing outside the fancy new coffee bar down the block from their apartment, the Espresso Pump - god, even the name is peak California - and trying to force herself to go in. 

The bell above the door lets out a cheery ringing sound as she pushes it open, and she steps inside, looking around and seeing that her worst nightmares have been confirmed. 

The menu boards above the counter are written in curling pink and blue chalk letters, and at least half the drinks advertised are things that Faith has never heard of. Seriously, what the hell is a Vanilla Infused Frappucino Latte? 

Give her the gas station anyday. 

“Can I help you?” someone asks. Faith looks up to see the girl behind the counter looking at her expectantly, and suddenly she’s staring because the girl is pretty. Like, really pretty.

She’s blonde and shorter than Faith by at least a few inches, her hair swept back into a perfect ponytail. Faith squints to read the name tag attached to her Espresso Pump t-shirt - Buffy. A cool name, she supposes. A little strange, but whatever; Californians name their kids all kinds of weird shit.

“Can I help you?” the girl - Buffy asks again, and Faith notices that she looks a little stressed. “Wait, let me guess.” She looks Faith up and down, taking in her ripped black jeans and battered Docs and faded Nine Inch Nails shirt. “Black coffee, no sugar. I can whip that up in less than a second. Thank god.” She mumbles this last part, but Faith still hears it.

“Uh,” Faith says, a little offbeat. That _is_ her regular coffee order, but she doesn’t appreciate being read by a book. Besides, she’s suddenly not sure that she wants her coffee to be ready that quickly. She wouldn’t mind having a few more moments to look at this pretty blonde girl. “Actually, no.”

“Oh, come on,” Buffy says. “You’re telling me that you don’t drink unsweetened black? Take a look at yourself.”

Faith looks down at herself. “Looking. Still not wanting a black coffee.” _Lie_.

“Alright then,” Buffy says. “What do you want?”

“I’ll have an, um - ” Faith glances up at the menu quickly for an idea. “Iced chai latte with mocha and uh...strawberry syrup. And a shot of vanilla.” 

Buffy looks a little surprised at this order, but she shrugs and grabs a cup from the stack next to her and picks up a Sharpie. “Can I get a name for that?”

“Faith.”

“That’ll be four dollars and twenty cents,” Buffy says, and Faith almost chokes. $4.20 for a medium coffee? A large cup at the gas station back home in Boston would be 99 cents on an expensive day. Still, she can’t back out now, so she rummages around in her pockets until she finds a crumpled five dollar bill and slides it across the counter. “Keep the change,” she says, because she hates having coins in her pockets. Too loud, too heavy.

Faith leans against the end of the counter to wait for her drink, standing next to the basins of cup lids and straws. The coffee shop itself is fairly crowded, but Buffy seems to be the only one behind the counter. 

“Faith,” Buffy calls out a minute later, holding up a steaming cup.

“Thanks,” Faith says, taking it from her. Their fingers brush in the exchange and Buffy blushes a little bit. Faith smirks. 

“See you around,” she says, heading for the door. As she turns back for one last look at Buffy, a redheaded girl appears behind the counter, also wearing an Espresso Pump t-shirt.

“Who was that?” Faith hears her say. “She was cute.”

“Shut up, Willow,” Buffy says. "She was annoying."

Faith smiles to herself as she lets the door close behind her. She takes a look at her cup, admiring the neat black Sharpie handwriting that reads FAITH in all caps.

Maybe she could get used to fancy coffee shops after all. 

She instantly changes her mind again when she takes a sip of her drink and gets a mouthful of what tastes like sugar mixed with milk and the contents of an entire spice drawer. She steps off to the edge of the sidewalk and spits out the “coffee”, praying that Buffy can’t see her through the window.

//

Faith goes back to the Espresso Pump the next morning despite her god awful drink from the day before, telling herself that it’s only to try a different coffee order to annoy Buffy. She’s still not quite over Buffy’s black coffee comment from yesterday.

She tells herself that she’s only trying to prove Buffy wrong about her coffee taste, not trying to get a chance to talk to her again, because there’s no way that she’s about to let herself be whipped for some girl she’s only just met, even if said girl is the cutest person she’s ever seen.

“Hey,” Buffy greets her as Faith steps up to the counter. Once again, she seems to be the only person working. “Back again, huh?”

“Yeah, well,” Faith says offhandedly. “That drink from yesterday was really good, so.” 

Buffy looks at her doubtfully. “You think? Looked like a mess to me, to be honest. But to each their own, I guess. Anyways, what can I get you today?”

Faith surreptitiously looks past Buffy at the drinks counter, taking in the many syrups and powders that are sitting around in between the blenders and cups. “I’ll have a dark roast coffee with whipped cream, two scoops of mocha powder and one of cinnamon, with a splash of vanilla and a shot of caramel.” She’s rewarded by the flash of annoyance in Buffy’s eyes.

“Are you sure?” Buffy asks carefully. “I’m not sure that sounds very good.”

“Insulting your customer’s drinks, huh?” Faith asks teasingly. “Not standard customer service practice, if you ask me.”

“Alright, alright,” Buffy says, grabbing a cup. “Don’t blame me when you end up puking. Name?”

“Aw come on. You know my name.”

“I still have to ask,” Buffy says impatiently. “So?”

Faith sighs. “Faith. As you already know.”

“Should be ready in a few,” Buffy says, heading for the drinks counter, and Faith settles down to wait and watch her scooping powders and pouring coffee.

“Here,” Buffy says a few minutes later, handing her a plastic cup rattling with ice cubes. Faith takes it, already feeling her fingers freezing. 

“Thanks, B,” she says, smiling. “Love it.” 

Buffy rolls her eyes, but Faith is sure that she sees a hint of a smile behind the exasperation. “Goodbye, Faith.”

//

Faith waits to try the drink until she gets home, so that she’ll have mouthwash on hand if it turns out to be as disgusting as yesterday’s. It’s not as bad, but she still feels like she’s pouring liquified sugar down her throat.

As she’s chugging a glass of water to recover from the sweetness, Angel walks in.

“What are you doing?” he asks, watching as she drains the glass and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand. “Is that a drink from the Espresso Pump? I thought you told me you hated fancy coffee bars.”

“I do,” Faith says. “In fact, it’s one of the reasons I most regret moving to LA to be your roommate. Every food place here has to be straight out of a goddamn cooking show. There’s no simplicity.”

“Then why the Espresso Pump cup?”

“Well, there’s this girl who works there,” Faith starts to explain, and Angel’s expression changes to one of understanding. 

“Got it,” he says, holding up his hand. “This is your plan to get in her pants, huh?”

“No,” Faith says, only half truthfully. “She assumed that I was a black coffee girl, so now I have to keep ordering fancy sweet drinks to annoy her.”

Angel frowns. “How exactly does this annoy her? You’re the one losing money on drinks that you don’t even like.”

“I don’t know,” Faith says defensively. “But it does, so I’m gonna keep doing it.”

“Okay,” Angel shrugs. “Tacos tonight?”

“Definitely, but you’re paying. I gotta save my money for coffee now.”

//

“Should have known you’d be here again,” Buffy says the next morning. “What’ll it be this time? What strange and vaguely horrifying combination?”

Faith considers for a moment. “I’ll take a latte with 2% milk, two espresso shots, a pump of green tea syrup, a sprinkle of matcha powder, and whipped cream with raspberry syrup drizzled on top. And maybe add half a pump of vanilla, but the light one, not the dark one.” At this point, she’s just naming random things and hoping that the drinks counter has them.

Buffy bites her lip to hold back the comment she’s clearly longing to throw at Faith and just nods. “Six dollars even.” 

Faith digs out some money, feeling like she can hear her bank account crying as she does so. Buffy carelessly scribbles “Faith” on the cup in her hand, not bothering with careful pen strokes anymore.

“Here,” Buffy grits out, handing Faith her drink like she’d rather smash it over her head. Faith can’t quite hold back a smirk. 

“Don’t come back tomorrow!” Buffy calls after her as Faith walks out the door, and Faith just laughs.

//

This goes on for almost a week. Faith keeps ordering bizarre and complicated drinks, and Buffy keeps looking like she wants to throw them right back over the counter at her. 

“These are so disgusting,” Buffy says one morning, handing over the latest Faith creation - a mix of French vanilla cold brew with heavy cream, light whip, two sugars, one stevia, three shots of raspberry syrup, green tea matcha powder, and one dash of almond milk. “Is there something actually wrong with you? There’s no way you enjoy this shit.”

Faith shrugs. “That’s for me to know and you to find out, Blondie.”

Buffy reaches across the counter to slap her on the wrist, but Faith pulls back in time. “Hey, watch the drink.” 

“You’re insufferable,” Buffy says. “I’m going to ask my manager for a transfer to the other Espresso Pump location. The one on the other side of the city.”

“Doesn’t bother me, B,” Faith says, with a lazy smile. “I’ll walk over there. I don’t mind a little exercise.” 

Buffy’s face turns red. “I can’t stand you!”

“Then sit,” Faith suggests, stirring the straw around in her drink. “Might do you some good, anyways. You seem a little - how do I put this - upset.”

“If you’re not gone in ten seconds, I’m going to risk my job by throwing a container of creamer at your head.” 

“Okay, okay,” Faith says, holding her hands up in self defense. “See you tomorrow.”

Buffy picks up a creamer carton, and Faith quickly ducks out the door.

//

“I can’t believe you're still doing this,” Angel says that night, after Faith fails to come up with money to pay the DoorDash delivery guy. “Faith, you’ll be broke by the end of the month, and for what?”

“It’s worth it,” Faith insists. “At least, it will be. You’ll see.” 

Angel shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable. I’m taking the soft-shell tacos.”

“Hey, wait,” Faith says. “Wait, no, you know those are my favorite!” 

“Too bad. The soft-shell tacos are for people who _aren’t_ draining their bank account to annoy a barista girl.”

“A _cute_ barista girl,” Faith mumbles. “That’s an important detail.” 

Angel shoves an entire taco into his mouth. “I’ll keep that in mind. Go eat your hard tacos.” 

//

Buffy isn’t there the next morning, and Faith feels a little bit cheated. She’s started to look forward to seeing the other girl every morning, even if it is just to annoy her. The customary three minute conversations with Buffy are becoming the best part of her day, not that Faith would ever admit it. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind is the logical reasoning that her overcomplicated coffee orders aren’t exactly a great way to make Buffy like her, but Faith tends to ignore that. 

Hoping that she looks casual, she leans over the counter to see if Buffy’s just in the back room getting more coffee grounds or something. 

“Hey, can I get you something?” a cheerful voice asks. Faith jumps guiltily and looks around to see the redheaded girl that she saw with Buffy the first day that she visited the Espresso Pump. 

“Yeah, you can…” Faith looks at the girl’s name tag. “Willow. Is Buffy here?”

Willow shakes her head. “She has off today.” 

Faith slumps against the counter. “Damn. I had a great idea for a new drink that I was gonna order today.”

“Oh,” Willow says, realization dawning on her face. “You must be Faith.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Faith says. “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do,” Willow laughs. “Buffy’s been talking about you for the last week and a half.” 

“All good things, I hope,” Faith says with a wink.

“Are you kidding? She’s been complaining about you non-stop.” Willow stops short for a moment, possibly thinking better of saying this to Faith’s face. “I - I mean, some of it’s been good, I guess…”

“Save it, Red,” Faith says. “I know that I’ve been annoying her. It’s on purpose.” 

Willow relaxes. “Oh, good. I mean, not good that you’ve been annoying her, but good that you know that she’s not being nice about you, you know?”

Faith takes a second to sort through that sentence. “Yeah. Anyways, will ya tell her I said hi?”

“Of course,” Willow says. “But can I get you a drink anyways?”

Faith considers for a moment. “If I order a plain black coffee, are you gonna tell on me?”

Willow waves a hand dismissively. “Nah. I think it’s kind of funny that you’re making Buffy so flustered. She’s usually a cool cucumber. This can be payback for the time that Tara started working here and Buffy made fun of me for a solid month because I was too scared to ask her out.” 

“Well in that case, a large plain black coffee would be great.” Faith pulls out a few worn dollar bills. “How much?”

“Three dollars,” Willow says, and Faith hands the money over against her better judgement. Black coffee may be her favorite order, but she still thinks that paying more than a dollar fifty for it should be illegal.

“I’ll see you around,” Willow says, handing Faith’s drink over. 

“Oh?” Faith asks, surprised. “You don’t seem like you’re on the clock most times when I’m here.”

“I’m not,” Willow says with a smile. “I just think I’ll be seeing a lot more of you pretty soon.” She’s turning away to help another customer before Faith can ask her to elaborate on that cryptic statement.

Faith grabs her overpriced black coffee and heads out, wondering what the hell Willow was talking about.

//

She gets to the Espresso Pump almost an hour earlier than usual the next morning, telling herself that she hopes Buffy’s gone again so that she can get another black coffee.

This does absolutely nothing to explain the warm feeling in her chest when she sees that Buffy’s back behind the counter, strands of hair falling out of her ponytail as she mixes a latte. 

“Hey,” Faith says when it’s her turn to order, leaning towards Buffy. “Miss me yesterday?”

“Oh, yeah,” Buffy says sarcastically. “Missed you so much. Maybe you should go away for like, a month so that I can miss you more. Or more than a month, that would be good too.”

“Aw, B,” Faith says, holding her hand over her heart. “I’m touched.”

“Touched in the head, maybe,” Buffy mumbles. “What’s it gonna be today?”

Faith casts about for inspiration, deciding to make the most outlandish drink yet. “Hmm. I think I’m gonna get a large mocha cold brew with two scoops of hazelnut powder, a shot of espresso, a pump of raspberry, a pump of strawberry, a scoop of protein powder, three shots of caramel, one low-fat creamer, cinnamon powder, double vanilla drizzle, whipped cream, and light ice. ” She digs out a twenty dollar bill and sets it on the counter.

Buffy looks at her with absolute murder in her eyes, but grabs a cup and scrawls on it in Sharpie, hiding the writing from Faith. She turns to the drinks counter and starts throwing ingredients in carelessly, and Faith watches in amusement. 

“Damn,” says the girl in line behind her. “Did you have to order so much shit? I just want my nonfat latte.” 

Faith raises an eyebrow, looking at the girl. She’s tall and rail-thin, and looks like she was born with the keys to her daddy’s BMW in her hand. Typical LA girl. “Ah shut up, McKayleighanne,” she says. “You’ll get your skinny bitch drink in a minute.” 

The girl frowns. “Wait, how’d you know my name?” Faith is saved from answering when Buffy calls out her order. 

“Looks good,” Faith grins, taking the cup from her. It feels like it weighs about ten pounds. 

Buffy just grunts in reply. Her hair looks even messier than it did before, and there’s a smudge of mocha syrup on her nose. Faith quickly wraps both hands around her cup before she does something stupid like reach over and wipe it off.

"Well, I’ve gotta go,” Faith says. “Tomorrow and tomorrow, or whatever the saying is.”

“I think the saying is _find a new coffee place_ ,” Buffy says impatiently. “Now get lost.”

Faith walks home, weighing the cup in her hands. She usually just tries a sip before inevitably throwing the rest away, but she doesn’t want to waste this one. It was a solid amount of drink. Or maybe food. Whatever.

“Hey, Angel,” Faith yells, pushing open the door of the apartment. “Got a drink for you to try.”

Angel takes the cup from her hand, frowning at the name on the side. “Why is this coffee for ‘faith the shithead’?” 

Faith snatches the cup back. “What the fuck?”

Oh, Buffy’s so in for it.

//

“I told you not to come back,” Buffy sighs. “Don’t you ever listen?”

“Don’t be that way,” Faith says, leaning up against the counter and grinning at her. “Who’d keep you entertained if I didn’t show up every morning?”  
“I’d keep myself entertained,” Buffy says with dignity. “I don’t need an annoying idiot bothering me to make a new ridiculous drink every day of the week, even if she is hot.”

Faith raises an eyebrow. “You think I’m hot?”

“Are you gonna order or not?”

“Alright, alright,” Faith says, rubbing her hands together. “Lemme see. I’m gonna get a pumpkin mocha breve, light on the mocha, one cream, one sugar, one stevia, three shots of espresso, two shots of caramel, one pump of extra mocha, frappuccino chips, butterscotch drizzle, vanilla bean powder, one shot of - ” 

That’s as far as she gets before Buffy finally snaps. 

“No,” Buffy explodes. “No! I’m not making that! That’s not even a drink!” Her voice rises with every word, until customers around the shop are staring in their direction. Faith nods and gives them a little wave.

“Oops,” Buffy says, lowering her voice. “I mean, that’s not even a drink.” 

Faith frowns. “Sure it is, B. What happened to ‘the customer is always right’?” 

Buffy waves her hands in frustration. “That only applies to real customers, not idiots like you!”

“Well, fine then,” Faith drawls, shoving her money back in her pocket. 

“No, you know what? I’ll make it,” Buffy says, smiling suddenly. “Wait right here.” She grabs a cup and writes Faith’s name, then starts filling it with coffee. Faith watches, a little confused. She’s not sure what Buffy’s up to, but she doesn’t like it.

“Order for Faith,” Buffy calls out a few minutes later, holding out the cup. Faith reaches for it, but Buffy pulls it away again.

“What are you doing?” Faith asks. 

“Here’s the thing,” Buffy says sweetly. “I have a theory.”

“What kinda science experiment crap is this?” Faith asks. “Just give me my drink.” 

“See, I think that my original impression of you was true,” Buffy continues. “I think that you’re a solid black coffee girl. I don’t think you actually drink these disgusting concoctions. I think you just order them to annoy me into paying attention to you.”

Faith scoffs. “Don’t be dumb,” she says, ignoring the fact that Buffy’s hit the nail on the head. “Of course I drink them. These are amazing.” 

Buffy arches an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Oh, really,” Faith says, keeping a poker face.

“Well then,” Buffy says, setting the cup on the counter and sliding it over to Faith. “It shouldn’t be any trouble for you to drink this right here, right now.” 

“I - what?”

“You heard me,” Buffy says. “Drink this entire cup right now, or admit that you’re only ordering these things to mess with me.”

Faith pushes the cup away like it’s radioactive “No way, B. I don’t have to drink this here. There’s no law that says you have to drink your coffee in front of the barista that made it. Not that I couldn't if I wanted to.”

Buffy just waits, and Faith’s nerve starts to break. “Look, I can totally chug this right now,” she says, picking up the cup. “No sweat.” 

“Then do it,” Buffy says, watching her closely. 

Faith brings the cup to her lips and steels herself to take a sip, but the smell of the drink - a sickeningly sweet mix of caramel, chocolate, and vanilla - makes her pause. “Wait, wait…”

“Aha!” Buffy exclaims. “I knew it.” She swipes the cup back. “You were just ordering all this stuff to fuck with me. I _knew_ it.”

Faith looks down at the floor, cause what the hell is she supposed to say now? “Okay, but…”

“You’re that desperate for my attention, huh,” Buffy says with a smirk. "Pretty funny."

“Listen, that’s not - ” Faith starts to say, and then thinks better of it. “No, you know what? Okay, you caught me. But what are ya gonna do about it? You still can’t stop me from ordering a pile of shit like this every day until I go bankrupt.” 

Buffy pauses to think about this, pouting. “Darn it.”

“So how about this,” Faith says. “I’ll stop fucking around with my orders if you go on a date with me.”  
  
Buffy looks up at her. “What?”

“You heard me,” Faith says, hoping that she’s not blushing. “Go on a date with me, B.”

Buffy just stares at her, and for a moment Faith is worried that she’s made a mistake, but then Buffy finally nods. “Okay.”

“Okay, you’ll do it?”

“Yeah,” Buffy says. “Pick me up here at eight.” She smiles, and Faith is so happy to see that smile after almost two weeks of Buffy scowling or frowning at her.

“Sounds good,” Faith says with a grin, and she can feel herself blushing, but she doesn’t even care anymore, because she’s got a date with Buffy. “I’ll see you tonight, then.” She starts for the door in a daze of happiness.

“Hey,” Buffy calls after her. “Don’t you want your drink?”

“Nah, you keep it,” Faith replies. “You know I won’t drink it anyways.”

Buffy just sighs. “Unbelievable.”

//

Faith throws another shirt across the room, cursing under her breath, and looks around for her nicer pair of boots. 

“Why doesn’t anyone do the laundry around here?” she mutters. “We need a housekeeper.”

“Problem here?” Angel asks, sauntering into Faith’s room and leaning against the doorframe. He looks around at the piles of already discarded shirts.“This room looks like a tornado hit it.” 

“I’m trying to figure out an outfit,” Faith says. “I have a date tonight.” 

Angel looks shocked. “A date? You?”

“Yes, and you can wipe that look of surprise off your face,” Faith snaps, holding up a pair of black jeans. “I’ll have you know that I’m very capable of going on dates.”

“Sure you are,” Angel says, not bothering to hide his amusement. “You’ve been on what, two in the last five years?”

Faith balls up the jeans in her hand and throws them at him. “Are you gonna help me or are you just gonna stand around making fun of me?”

“Probably the second option,” Angel says. “Plus, you’ll definitely just end up wearing jeans and a t-shirt like usual.” He walks out of the room before Faith can throw anything else. 

Faith surveys the clothing piled around her room and sighs, because damn it, Angel is right. 

She reaches for her favorite pair of jeans, hoping that Buffy isn’t taking her anywhere too fancy. 

//

Faith shows up at the Espresso Pump at eight on the dot and sees that Buffy’s already inside, changed out of her work uniform into a white crop top and jeans. Faith eyes the space between the bottom of Buffy’s shirt and the top of her pants, and bites her lip before she can stop herself.

“Hey,” Buffy says, turning to her. “You clean up pretty nice.” 

“You don’t look so bad yourself, B.” _Understatement of the century._

“Charming. Is this how you talk to all the girls?”

“Only the pretty ones.” 

Buffy rolls her eyes but smiles despite herself, and Faith gives herself a point for that one.

“So where are we going?” Faith asks, holding the door open for Buffy and following her out onto the sidewalk. 

Buffy looks at her askance. “Uh...I thought you’d pick the place.”

“Me?” Faith asks, nonplussed. “Why me?”

“Well,” Buffy says slowly, “you’re the one who asked me out, so…”

Faith runs a hand through her hair. “Oh. Yeah.”

“God, you’re hopeless,” Buffy sighs. “You’d think that you’d never been on a date before.”

“Not much of the dating type,” Faith admits. “Hit ’em and quit ’em is more my speed.”

Buffy considers this for a moment. “So what you’re saying is that I should consider myself lucky.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Well in that case, I’ll make this a night to remember,” Buffy promises. “Come on.” She takes Faith’s hand, and Faith lets her, because Buffy is the kind of girl that you break tradition for. “I’ll make this your best first date ever.”

“God, no need to make me sound like some virgin loser,” Faith grumbles, but she lets Buffy pull her along.

//

“Damn, B,” Faith says an hour later. “You really do know how to treat a lady.” 

They’re sitting at one of the outdoor tables at a small Italian restaurant called Al Forno. It’s crowded and simple and definitely not one of the gourmet LA restaurants that Faith has become all too used to seeing around town.

“Yeah, well,” Buffy says. “We could have gone somewhere more fancy, but there’s unlimited breadsticks here, so I thought the tradeoff was worth it.”

“Oh, definitely. I’m really not big on the gourmet scene anyway.” Faith waves to a passing waiter. “Yo, can we get more breadsticks here?”

The man looks down at the table, taking in the four empty breadbaskets already sitting there next to Faith's plate of fettucine alfredo, and raises an eyebrow. 

“Hey, I didn’t have lunch,” Faith tells him. “Just bring on the bread, will ya?”

The waiter nods curtly and leaves, and Buffy laughs. “So, Faith,” she says. “You don’t like dating, you don’t like gourmet restaurants, you apparently don’t like black coffee - even though I think that’s a lie - what do you like, then?”

Faith taps her fork against her water glass. “Uh, cheap taco trucks. Vintage jackets. Cold weather…”

“Not much of that around here,” Buffy comments. “Anything else?”

Faith smiles at her. “Annoying pretty girls into liking me.”

“Oh, please. Who said I like you?”

“You’re sitting here with me, aren’t you?”

“You’re so unbelievably full of it,” Buffy says, but the smile on her face says otherwise. 

The waiter reappears and slams down another basket of breadsticks, then stalks away. Faith watches him leave. “Damn, what’s his problem?”

“Probably worried about you eating their entire stock of bread,” Buffy says. “Come on, let’s go somewhere. You’re done with your food, right?” 

Faith shakes her head, and Buffy closes her eyes in exasperation. “I mean your actual food, not the bread. Let’s go, Faith.”

“Alright, alright,” Faith says, scooping up the breadstick basket. “But I’m taking this with me.”

//

“The harbor, huh?” Faith asks. “How romantic.”

Buffy gives her a little shove. “It’s just one of my favorite places. I like watching the boats go in and out. It’s fun to imagine where they came from or where they’re going.”

Faith sits down on a bench nearby, putting the last breadstick in her mouth and tossing the empty basket into a nearby trash can. “Kinda peaceful, I guess.” 

“Yeah, it’s nice.” Buffy sits down next to her. 

“Have you lived here your whole life?” Faith asks, looking around at the harbor and the skyscrapers around them and wondering what it would be like to grow up in this twisted and over-glamorous mess of a city.

“No,” Buffy says. “I was born in Sunnydale, about fifty miles away from here. I moved here with Willow when we both got into UCLA, and we’ve been here since. Graduated last year, and now I’m working the Espresso Pump while I do an internship that’ll eventually become a paid job. If they ever actually cough up the promotion, that is.”

“Oh,” Faith says, because here she is on a date with the prettiest girl she’s ever seen, and it turns out that she’s a college graduate. 

Faith never even finished _high school_. 

“What about you?” Buffy asks. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Nah, I’m from Boston. Moved out here cause my best friend did and I didn’t wanna be apart from him.” 

Buffy smiles. “That’s cute.”

Faith makes a face. “I guess.”

“You know,” Buffy continues, “You seem all tough and badass, but I think that you’re just a big softie underneath. Case in point: this.”

Faith feels herself turning red. “C’mon B, I got a reputation to maintain here. Enough with the cutesy theories about me.” 

Buffy smirks. “Well, I was right about the first one, wasn’t I?”

And fuck, she really was.

Buffy stands up, pulling Faith to her feet as well. “Come on, there’s somewhere else I want to go tonight.”

//

Faith isn’t really sure where they’re going this time, but she doesn’t care, not when she’s with Buffy. 

Buffy’s still holding her hand, and it’s making Faith wonder if she should have tried this whole dating thing before, because _damn_ tonight was nice. 

“We’re here,” Buffy says, dropping Faith’s hand to pull a set of keys out of her pocket. It’s only then that Faith notices they’re at the Espresso Pump. 

Buffy unlocks the door and lets them in, and Faith takes a look around. The coffee shop looks different when it’s after hours; all the chairs and stools are put up, the floor is sparkling clean, and it’s lit with a soft yellow light. 

“What are we doin’ here?” Faith asks, watching as Buffy goes behind the counter. 

Buffy grabs two cups from the stack. “I’m going to make you a proper cup of coffee, cause I know you haven’t been drinking that weird shit you order.” 

Faith goes to protest, and Buffy stops her with a stare. “Okay, so I wasn’t drinking them, but I’m sure someone would.”

“Right,” Buffy says, now writing on the cups, “if their sense of taste was completely defective.”

Faith stops arguing, just hops up on the counter to sit and watch as Buffy starts the coffee machine. She sets one cup under the stream of coffee and starts filling the other with chai. 

“Order for Faith,” Buffy says a moment later, handing Faith her cup. Faith takes a sip and sighs in happiness. No cream, no milk, no sugary bullshit, just plain simple caffeine.

Doesn’t quite have the low quality gas station taste that she still misses, but whatever. They can work on that.

Faith takes another sip and looks for her name on the cup, but there’s only a messily drawn heart next to a letter F. It’s embarrassing how fast her heart starts racing when she sees that.

“What’s in your cup?” she asks to distract herself, and she’s surprised to see Buffy blush. 

“It’s that drink you ordered the first time you were here,” Buffy admits. “You know, the chai mocha strawberry thing. It’s actually kinda good.”

Faith smirks. “What were you saying earlier about ‘no one drinking that weird shit’?” 

Buffy throws a mini tub of half-and-half at her, and Faith can’t help but laugh as she ducks to avoid it.

//

“Do you have time for a last stop?” Buffy asks as they leave the Espresso Pump. “I kind of want to show you one more thing.”

“Got nowhere better to be,” Faith says. “Let’s go.” 

//

“Here we are,” Buffy says a few minutes later, stopping in front of an apartment building and pushing open the door. They step into a lavishly decorated lobby, and Faith raises an eyebrow. 

“Taking me home on the first date, huh? Color me surprised, B.”

“Will you shut up,” Buffy mumbles as they get into an elevator. “That’s not why we’re here.” 

Faith sighs exaggeratedly. “Well that’s no fun then.” 

Buffy ignores her and pushes the button for floor 19. The elevator starts to rise. 

When the doors open again, Buffy heads for apartment 7 and pulls out her keys. “Welcome to my humble abode,” she says with a grin. Faith steps inside and her jaw drops.

The apartment is nicer than anything she could have imagined. The floor is highly varnished wood and covered with an expensive carpet, the kitchen looks like the display gallery of an upper-end appliance store, and there’s an honest to god chandelier hanging from the living room ceiling. 

“Oh, yeah,” Buffy says, as if just remembering that she lives inside a fucking featured home from an apartment catalogue. “It’s kinda nice. Willow’s rich, and it’s her name on the lease, so…” 

“You room with Willow?” Faith asks, still staring around at her surroundings.

“Yeah, but she’s not home tonight. You’ve met her?”

“Ran into her the other day,” Faith says vaguely. “So you brought me up here to show off the home?”

Buffy leans casually against the gleaming stainless steel fridge. “Yeah, basically.”

Faith takes a step closer to her, forgetting about the fancy apartment now. “And for no other reason?”

“Of course no,” Buffy says, sounding a little breathless. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

“No?”

“Well…” Buffy swallows, and Faith resists the urge to put her lips on Buffy’s neck. For now. “I mean, hardly ever.” 

“Think you could make an exception?” Faith asks, putting her hands on Buffy’s waist and pressing her back against the fridge. 

“No,” Buffy says, blushing and stepping away from her. “No, no, no. No exceptions. But I will give you a tour of the bedroom before you go.” 

//

“That wasn’t a very good tour,” Faith says a couple hours later. “All I saw was the ceiling.” 

Buffy smacks her on the arm, and it’s so worth it.

//

Faith dreams of being in a desert all night, looking for water and not finding it. She wakes up thirsty the next morning and wonders if she’s still dreaming, because her bed doesn’t have silk sheets and a designer blanket on it. Then she notices that there’s a woman lying next to her, and realizes that this is definitely not her bed. 

_Right,_ she remembers. _I’m at Buffy’s apartment._

Faith looks over at Buffy, sprawled out over her half of the bed with her arm draped over Faith’s bare stomach, and smiles fondly. If she had her way, she’d be lying in bed cuddling with Buffy all morning, no matter what it did to ruin her badass image.

But she really does need a drink of water, so she forces herself out of bed, gently moving Buffy’s arm aside, and grabs an oversized t-shirt from the back of the chair at Buffy’s desk. It comes down to the middle of her thighs, which probably means that it’s knee-length on Buffy. 

Faith pads out into the kitchen, searching the cabinets for a glass. She’s found a set of sterling silver cutlery, a copper frying pan, and a set of hand painted ceramic bowls before she hears the sound of someone clearing their throat. She whips around, looking for the source of the noise, and then freezes. 

“Glasses are in the next drawer over,” Willow says, leaning back on the couch. "And your pants are probably still in Buffy's bedroom."

“Hey, Red,” Faith says calmly. “How ya doing?” 

“Pretty good,” Willow replies. “I mean, I have to - I have to go to work in a few minutes. Buffy’s on for this morning too, but I guess she’s kind of busy, huh.” She gives Faith a knowing smile.

“Oh, well,” Faith says. “I mean, I’m sure B will - ” 

“Who said my name?” Buffy asks sleepily, poking her head out of the bedroom. Faith notices, somewhat to her disappointment, that Buffy’s thrown on a t-shirt and shorts. “Oh, Will, you’re home. Kevin’s the manager on for today, right? Tell him that I’m sick or something, okay?”

“I mean, you are!” Willow says. “You’re lovesick. Got it.”

Buffy glances at Faith, turning bright red. “No, I’m not! Don’t you dare tell him that.”

Willow smiles. “Sure, Buff. See you later.” She makes her way to the door, then turns back for a second. “See, Faith? I knew I’d see a lot more of you. Although, you know, when I said that, I thought I meant that I’d see you more often, not that I’d see more OF you.” She gestures to Faith’s bare legs. 

“Alright, alright,” Buffy says, blushing even harder. “Bye, Will. See you tonight.” 

Willow gives them a small wave and then disappears out the door. Faith turns to Buffy.

“So, are you gonna make me some coffee?”  
“Hm,” Buffy says, crossing the kitchen and getting out a bag of coffee grounds. “How about this. I’ll give you a cup of coffee if you go on another date with me.”

“Making bargains now, huh B?” Faith sits down at the kitchen counter.

“Learned from the best,” Buffy says. “So?”

“Okay,” Faith says, smiling at her. “Deal.” She watches as Buffy carefully fills the coffee filter and sets out two mugs. 

“Hey, Buffy,” Faith says after a moment. “What’s a girl gotta do to get a good morning kiss around here?”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Buffy asks with an eye roll, but her tone is affectionate. 

Faith grins at her. “Well, you could shut me up, ya know.”

Buffy takes two steps forward and kisses her, and Faith forgets all about the coffee. She’s found her new morning buzz and it’s so, so much better than caffeine.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/thymewars)


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